


Traditions

by willowscribe



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:42:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowscribe/pseuds/willowscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Traditions regarding Christmas, Spock was finding, were both illogical and universally acknowledged as normal. (Or: four times Spock didn't understand Christmas and one time he did)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> As I'm posting this, it's Christmas Eve. Now, I personally know that since I can never sleep on Christmas Eve, I spend the night reading fanfiction. So in the spirit of Christmas (and the spirit of Star Trek), I've written this. Merry Christmas and enjoy!

Spock’s first Christmas was when he was eight years old. Sarek was gone for a week-long council session, and Amanda absolutely insisted. “You’ve never celebrated Christmas before,” she said as she buzzed around the room. There were no pine trees on Vulcan, but Amanda had improvised with a cactus she had found growing in her garden. “Here, hang this.” She handed Spock a small, red orb.

“Why?” Spock asked. “I sorry, but I do not understand. For what purpose are we decorating this… cactus?”

Amanda tutted softly. “Because it’s a tradition, that’s why.” She hung another orb on one of the cactus’s spikes. “On Earth, Christmas is a celebration. Terrans decorate to show their excitement for the holiday.”

“But we are not on Earth.”

“A very astute observation, my son.”

Spock flushed. “But Mother,” he continued, try to recover, “it simply seems foolish. I do not understand why this holiday exists in the first place. Why designate one day out of the year to exchange gifts with others? Why this particular day? And why can’t Terrans just give each other gifts any time they like?”

Amanda smiled softly. “So many questions, Spock. Are you trying to outwit me with your logic or are you genuinely curious?”

“Perhaps both.”

“Honest as always.”

“Vulcans cannot lie.”

“Of course.” Amanda sighed and took a seat in one of the tall-backed chairs that were arranged around the border of the room. “Christmas is a long story. Thousands of years ago, an old Earth religion celebrated the birth of one of their most beloved and holy prophets. This prophet taught that we should all try to love and care for one other, so the celebration of Christmas included things like giving gifts to show our affection for one another. As more people began to celebrate the holiday, even people who didn’t follow this prophet began to participate in giving gifts and showing their loved ones how much they care.

“The gift isn’t just a gift, Spock. It’s a symbol of love. That’s what this whole holiday is about.” Amanda smiled softly. “And that’s why I want to share it with you.”

Spock frowned. “I’m afraid I do not fully understand, but I am willing to accept your explanation. However, I do not understand where this… cactus… comes into play.”

Amanda grinned. “Well, first off, it should be a tree, not a cactus, but Vulcan doesn’t have the best climate for growing pine trees…”

[-]

Spock’s second Christmas was during his first year as an instructor at the Academy. There was an annual staff Christmas party every year, and he was invited (read: required) to make an appearance.

“I still do not understand the purpose of this holiday,” Spock said as Uhura frowned at his wardrobe.

“Don’t you own anything _decent_?” she asked finally. “All you have are uniforms.”

“Would a uniform not suffice?”

“Of course not! Honestly, sometimes you can be such a _man_.”

“I was under the impression that I am male 100% of the time.”

Uhura sighed heavily. “Spock, you’re being intentionally stupid. You _know_ what I mean.”

“Does my confusion regarding your metaphors aggravate you, Nyota?”

Uhura chuckled and went back to rifling through Spock’s closet. “If that’s an invitation for angry sex, then I’m all for it. But if you’re just trying to piss me off…”

“You _are_ rather beautiful when you are angry.”

“Oh, shove it.” There was a pause, and then Uhura gave a cry of delight. “Thank _god_ , Spock. I was beginning to worry that you never wore casual clothes.” She pulled out a dark gray button-up shirt and threw it at him. “Your uniform trousers can work with this.”

“To be quite honest, I have never worn this shirt before. It was a gift from my mother. She insisted that I might need it one day.”

“She was right,” Uhura said. “Honestly Spock, I’m going to get you nothing but new clothes for Christmas.”

Spock froze, halfway through shrugging off his uniform jacket. “You intended on giving me a gift?” he asked.

“Of course,” Uhura said. “It’s Christmas! Tomorrow I’ll run back to the dorm and grab it before – you don’t have any other plans, do you? I never thought…”

“I did not have any alternate plans,” Spock assured her. “I would be quite pleased to spend the day in your company.”

Uhura chuckled. “Good. Now hurry up and change, or we’ll be late to the party.”

As Spock fastened the buttons on the shirt Uhura had picked out, he went through a brief list of material items she might like to receive. It had never occurred to him that Uhura would expect a gift for Christmas, but it _was_ a tradition… Frankly, it had been foolish of him to not think of it sooner. Perhaps he could order something tonight? It seemed strange, this obsession with gift-giving, but then, he’d never really understood the symbolism behind it.

[-]

Spock’s third Christmas was in deep space. The whole bridge crew (with the addition of Scotty) was hanging out in one of the auxiliary rec rooms. “It’s not a good as the real stuff,” McCoy grumbled as he sipped from his glass of replicated mulled wine.

“Be grateful it even knew mulled wine!” Scotty shouted from across the room. “The damn thing couldn’t even replicate haggis! What kind of replicator doesn’t know haggis?”

“Why would you even _want_ haggis?” Jim asked, glancing up from his chess game with Spock.

“It’s actually quite good, if you all would stop being babies and try it!”

“Too bad the replicator doesn’t know it, then,” Jim said. Then, more quietly to Spock: “I deleted it from the replicator’s memory. Scotty wanted me to try it the other day and I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Spock almost smiled. Then he said, “Check, Captain.”

Jim groaned and glanced back at the chessboard. As he contemplated his next move, there was a hiss, and the doors slid open. Carol Marcus stepped into the room, carrying a handful of Christmas crackers. “I know Scotty can appreciate these at least,” she said. “I’m sorry, but it just wouldn’t be Christmas without them.”

“What are those?” Spock asked Jim quietly as Jim made his move.

“Christmas crackers,” Jim replied. “You break them open and there are trinkets inside. It’s just for fun.”

Spock frowned. “There are so many traditions regarding Christmas that I do not understand. I know the history of the holiday, but it does not explain all the… frivolity that goes along with it.”

Jim shrugged. “Maybe it _is_ a little frivolous, but Christmas is a time of happiness and joy and caring. And sometimes silly things make people happy. Things like Christmas crackers. And sometimes it’s alcohol that makes people happy,” he added, gesturing to McCoy, who was glaring at his wine but drinking it anyway.

“I had a Christmas tree once, as a child,” Spock confessed. “It was actually a cactus, but my mother was improvising.”

Jim snorted. “A Christmas cactus? Really? That’s kind of awesome.”

“Nonetheless, I did not understand at the time why we had it. But now I think I do. It makes human happy to be around things that are aesthetically pleasing, which is why the tree is decorated in such a way. It made it special, since it was unlike its natural state.”

Jim shrugged. “I guess. I’d never really thought much about it.”

“Though I must confess, I still find the whole idea of the holiday ridiculous.”

“Aw Spock, where’s your Christmas spirit?” Jim chuckled. “Checkmate, by the way.”

As Spock stared at the board in disbelief, Jim stood up and headed over to Carol, who was handing out the crackers. Chekov finished downing his glass of mulled wine and began humming quietly to himself. “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all ze vay…”

Uhura giggled and picked up Chekov’s tune. “Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh!” she sang loudly and clearly. Her voice, Spock noted, was very pleasing to the ear.

Before Spock knew what was happening, the rest of the room (save McCoy) burst into song as well, following Uhura and Chekov’s leads. “Dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh… o’er the fields we go, laughing all the way!”

Chekov laughed loudly to illustrate the point.

“Bells on bobtail ring, making spirits bright. What fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight!”

“Get out your lyre, Spock!” Uhura shouted loudly over the rest of the group’s singing voices. “You can play along!”

“I’m afraid I do not know the tune, Lieutenant,” Spock said.

The song ground to a halt. “You don’t know Jingle Bells?” Uhura asked quietly.

“No. I believe I recall the tune being played around December during my years on Earth, but I never took particular note of it.”

The group was silent for a moment before Uhura said, “Well, you’ll just have to learn. After all, it’s a tradition!”

Traditions regarding Christmas, Spock was finding, were both illogical and universally acknowledged as normal.

[-]

Spock’s fourth Christmas was spent with Jim. It was also spent with Carol and David Marcus.

“Uncle Spock, look what Dad got me!” David Marcus bounced excitedly up and down, holding a scale model of the U.S.S. Enterprise. “Now whenever he’s in space, I’ll be able to picture exactly where he is!”

“That’s very nice,” Spock conceded.

 Carol chuckled. “David, don’t jump all over Uncle Spock. It’s not polite.”

“But Muuuuummmmm–”

“No, stop it! Why don’t you go pester your father for a bit?”

David pouted for a moment before bounding off to Carol’s kitchen, where Jim was currently wrestling with carving up the ham. Carol watched him go with a small smile. “You know, I’m glad you and Jim are willing to be a part of his life.”

“I’m pleased that you’ve encouraged it.”

Carol shrugged. “I thought about it… I mean, Jim and I have such different lifestyles anymore. He’s in space so often, and I’m always busy with my research… at first I thought that David might be better off if he never met Jim. He’d never have to worry about his dad being up in space, with all its danger and darkness, and Jim and I knew we would never last romantically. But I can tell that this is the right decision, for David’s sake. I mean, he positively _adores_ you.”

Spock jerked. “He does?”

“You can’t tell?” Carol grinned. “You’re the cool uncle now. Jim and I are the boring parents.”

“I am technically not his uncle. I am his stepfather.”

“Which means you get to spoil him while Jim and I restrain him.”

“I am not particularly inclined to ‘spoiling’,” Spock said. “If anything, Jim will be that particular culprit.”

“But he still likes you best,” Carol laughed.

Before Spock got a chance to answer, Jim poked his head in the doorframe. “Dinner is served,” he said dramatically. David darted back between Jim’s legs and made a beeline for Spock.

“Uncle Spock, Uncle Spock! Mum says you get to sit next to me at the table!”

“Did she now?” Spock said, quirking an eyebrow at Carol. Carol winked at him.

“Well, he positively insisted. Who was I to deny such a simple request?”

David grabbed Spock’s hand and guided him over to his assigned seat. “Dad’s made us a whole big ham!” he exclaimed.

“Hey, don’t forget who cooked that ham, mister,” Carol said. “Dad just carved it up.”

David didn’t seem to care. “Uncle Spock, do you like ham?” he asked.

“I do not eat meat,” Spock said, “but I’ve heard that your replicator can produce an excellent plomeek soup.”

“I had it programmed in just for you,” Carol said. “I knew you’d be coming to visit for Christmas, but I just didn’t have time to get the actual ingredients.”

“It’s not a problem,” Spock said. “I appreciate your efforts.”

Jim pulled up a chair across from Spock and winked at him. “I see you’ve got a new best friend,” he said, gesturing to David, who was giving Spock’s plomeek soup a funny look.

“It smells funny,” David finally declared.

“I imagine it would, to a human unused to the ingredients,” Spock agreed.

David shrugged. “I mean, I just thought _everyone_ had ham for Christmas. It’s like a tradition or something.”

“You may find, David, that I am not one for Christmas traditions.”

David frowned. “Why not? Christmas is the best time of the whole year!”

“I am not accustomed to Christmas. On my planet, we do not celebrate it.”

David gasped. “No Christmas? Ever? But what about Santa? What about all the gifts? What about carols and crackers and trees and silly hats and Christmas hams and… and…”

“I had a Christmas tree once,” Spock confesses. “But it was actually a cactus.”

He’s told this story multiple times now, but he’s never gotten a reaction quite like David’s.

[-]

Spock’s fifth Christmas was with Jim. Only Jim.

“Dashing through the snow…” Jim sang as he decorated the tall Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. Spock followed suit, draping tinsel artfully across the branches.  “Hey Spock, do you know when they’re gonna be here?”

“Nyota reported that her arrival was planned for 1800 hours. I assume Leonard will be with her.”

“God willing,” Jim mumbled. “She could leave him in the dust.”

“They were supposed to visit Joanna before their arrival here. I cannot imagine that Nyota would abandon Leonard in such a social situation.”

“What, was Jocelyn gonna be there too? Who planned that?”

Spock shrugged. It was a gesture that had taken him years to master, but he found that it spoke volumes. “Do we have much else to do?” he asked, grabbing another handful of tinsel.

“Unless you feel like hanging lights off the porch again, then no.”

“Definitely not,” Spock agreed. The previous year’s attempt had been… disastrous, to say the least. “But I will admit that something feels like it is missing. Now, I am still not perfectly accustomed to Christmas traditions, but…”

Jim grinned. “I know just what it is. Gimme two seconds.” He darted off into the house without a glance back. A few minutes later, he returned, holding some sort of plant. “Where did you put the ladder?” he asked.

“I do not know. It was you who used it last.”

“No, it was definitely you.”

“No, it definitely was not.  I certainly would remember –”

“Aw, fuck it,” Jim said. He held the plant above his head. “Come here.”

“Jim, I am afraid I do not understand what you are doing…”

“Just. Come. Here.”

Spock took two steps over and found himself standing very close to Jim. “This,” Jim said, “is mistletoe. It’s another Christmas tradition. If you and another person find yourselves under mistletoe, then you have to kiss. It’s the rule.”

“I do not understand how being beneath a plant can force you to kiss someone else,” Spock said.

“It’s just… tradition, okay? Now stop thinking about it and kiss me.”

Spock did. When they broke apart, Spock suddenly blinked. “I believe I understand.”

“What?”

“Christmas. I believe I understand. All these traditions I have never quite understood… I always thought they were silly things Terrans did. I knew that there had to be some deeper meaning but…”

“Spit it out, Spock.”

“It’s love. All these traditions symbolize love.”

Jim grinned. “Well, duh. I’ve been telling you that for years.”

“Yes, but I’ve never really… it all seemed too abstract... too…”

“Emotional?”

“Yes.” Spock offered Jim two fingers in a kiss. Jim returned the gesture. “But every single thing involved in this holiday is somehow related to love. The whole holiday is an expression of love.”

“Even the Christmas ham?” Jim asked with a grin.

“Except, perhaps, the Christmas ham.”

“Don’t tell David, he’d be disappointed.”

“David is a grown man.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s stopped looking up to you. And if you declare the Christmas ham barbaric…”

Spock smiled softly. “I believe this mistletoe may be my favorite of all Christmas traditions.”

Jim laughed. “Yeah, but that’s until you get stuck under it with Chekov. That’s almost illegal.”

“Chekov is almost 68.”

“It’s still weird.” Jim shrugged. “But we have a few hours of peace until the madness descends and we have to worry about _that_. What do you say we make good use of the time?”

“Sometimes, I worry that you’re still a teenager.”

“With these old bones? Definitely not.” Jim laughed. “But it’s all part of my charm.”

Spock nods. “Yes. It is.”

Spock knew that he may never fully understand Christmas, but that was beside the point. Christmas was love… and that’s what he was spending every Christmas for the rest of his life with Jim.


End file.
